“Oh no you don’t” Kurt whispered, taking Blaine’s hands in his own. It was unnecessary though, Blaine would have complied. He would do anything for that voice.
“How are you feeling?” Asked Kurt, dropping his hands and instead moving to stroke Blaine’s mass of dark curls, just as his parents had done for him when he was distressed. Blaine nodded, not yet prepared to talk. It didn’t answer Kurt’s question but he knew that he had understood what he was trying to say. He also knew that Kurt wouldn’t fall for the lie.
“I’ll go and get a nurse, okay? I love you,” and with that his fingers left Blaine’s hair, and went with him out of the door. Blaine knew he was coming back, but the trouble was, he knew the same applied to his father. He wasn’t safe without Kurt, and Blaine was scared. His breathing quickened and his black and blue face became damp with sweat.

“Oh God. Blaine, baby, what happened?” Asked Kurt as he walked back into the room, a nurse in tow. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his boyfriends face return.
“Oh dear, Blaine, can you calm down for me?” The nurse’s voice was urgent, pleading. For Kurt, he thought, Calm down for Kurt. It took a few minutes, but eventually his breathing and pulse steadied, and his thoughts turned to more trivial things.

For the entirety of the time that the nurse checked over Blaine, Kurt held his hand, squeezing gently whenever he saw signs of another panic attack. Blaine lay with his head facing Kurt, smiling a sad smile. Blaine would describe it as pathetic, Kurt would describe it as broken, and he was determined to fix it.

“Well, you seem to be steadily recovering. Everything‘s fine,” She said, causing Kurt to breathe a sigh of relief. She took off Blaine‘s oxygen mask, smiling reassuringly as she did so. “Do you want anything?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
And with that she left the room, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone.

The conversation had lasted hours. It had covered topics similar to those that would be covered over hot coffee after Glee practice. Some of them included: possible song selections for regionals; the latest episode of their favourite TV show; who was in relationships with who; and amusing stories about embarrassing things that had happened to either themselves or their friends and family. Not once did they touch on the subject of Blaine’s assault. Kurt knew it was unavoidable, but he also knew Blaine wasn’t ready and, besides, he had no idea how he was going to bring it up.

The conversation drew to a close as Blaine’s eyelids began to droop and his breathing steadied. Kurt continued to rub soothing circles on Blaine’s hand with his thumb, and whilst he did so, Blaine’s dreams stayed blissful and contented. Kurt took in his sleeping boyfriend’s body. He looked past the harrowing cuts and bruises and saw only beauty. Blaine had lost the look of fear and anxiety, and instead he seemed peaceful and safe. In his dreamland he was safe. Safe from the thoughts that in every minute of his wake threatened to creep up and choke him, drown him, kill him.

Kurt’s thoughts lingered around Blaine for the next few minutes, until anoesis crashed around him, filling his brain with song lyrics- most of them apropos to the way he felt about Blaine, though there were a few odd ones that took over his line of thought- and inspirational, though inapt, quotes. He was vaguely aware of a growling in his stomach and a thirst in the back of his throat, but it took him several minutes for him to act on the feelings. Finally he kissed Blaine’s hand and left for the cafeteria.

The touch was gone. His anchor had been cut loose. He wasn’t safe.

Kurt had not been anticipating this. He had expected to satisfy his hunger and quench his thirst, and return to the contented, sleeping Blaine that he had left. What he saw before him was far from contented. Blaine was sweating and struggling for breath, he was flailing and pleading mercy. Kurt was about to wake him but the sound of Blaine’s voice stopped him.

“Dad, no!” He cried, “Dad please, don’t make me! You do it, please, it’ll be quicker! I can’t…” He let out a scream and suddenly his eyes shot open. He was struggling to let any air into his lungs so Kurt hastily grabbed the oxygen mask and pressed it over Blaine’s mouth and nose. He caressed Blaine’s forehead, and kissed his hair line, knowing that this brought the boy comfort. When Blaine’s breaths had finally become uniform and constant once again, he replaced the oxygen mask where he had found it and took Blaine’s hand in his own.

“What happened, Baby?” Kurt asked in the most soothing voice he could manage.
“Nightmare.”
“What about?”
“What happened.”
“And what happened?” Kurt forgot about Blaine probably not being prepared to talk about the incident and urged him to open up.
“Dad,” His voice was a whisper. A hoarse, strained whisper.
“Blaine, what did he do to you? Why were you asking him not to make you? Make you do what?” His voice was dangerously close to a furious yell, but he tried to keep calm for Blaine’s sake.
“This,” Blaine said, sobs erupting from his throat, and tears streaming down his face.
“What do you mean he made you do this?”
“I can’t Kurt.”
“Blaine, you have to tell me. I want to make it better,” Kurt knew it wasn’t fair to make him talk about it so soon, but he knew the police would be asking him questions in a few days, and they wouldn’t have time to wait until he was ready. Kurt was simply preparing him for what was yet to come. That and he was just extremely curious.

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and stared, through his tears, into Kurt’s eyes.
“Here goes nothing,” he thought.